


New Year's Parties Are The Worst (When You're Flying Solo)

by reliquiaen



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was not how he'd expected his evening to go. Not that he had any reason to complain." - I love long titles? Also I really love these guys. They're totally my second favourite AT ship. Even if I'm sailing by myself. ;u; Bianca is BMO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Parties Are The Worst (When You're Flying Solo)

Ugh, parties were the worst. Bonus points if it’s a New Years’ party. 

“You look a little uncomfortable.”

Rob looked up, wondering who would possibly talking to him at this place full of people he didn’t know. A mousy blonde girl with a beer in one hand and a loud green shirt with multi-coloured balls of fuzz in an outline of a Christmas tree was smiling at him. The lenses in her chunky aqua glasses reflected the weird spinning lights someone had fixed to the ceiling.

“Pardon?” he asked over the noises around him.

The girl smiled a little wider. “I said, you look uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” he muttered, bobbing his head. “I guess I am a little.”

Her head tilted to one side and she shuffled a little closer to his corner of the room. “Not your scene?”

“I don’t really know anyone here,” Rob corrected.

She laughed. “Then why stay? Wanna make friends or something?” Her eyes twinkled and she added, “Ooh, I know. You want to kiss someone at midnight.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly high on my list of priorities. Besides, why would I want to kiss a perfect stranger?”

“You said it yourself: because they’re perfect.”

He blinked at her flatly.

“Oh, come on,” she burst out. “I’ve been waiting ages to make that joke. It’s funny!”

Rob only rolled his eyes.

“But seriously,” she went on. “Why be here?”

He shrugged. “I came with people I know. They vanished though, and I don’t particularly want to walk home alone.”

She nodded. “Reasonable. I’m Bee, by the way.” The girl stuck out a hand, wrist covered in charms and – weirdly – rubber bands.

“Rob,” he replied, shaking it.

“So which of the nerds here brought you?”

“Um… well most of these people, I think, are Keila’s friends? I tagged along with my sister because she said I needed to get out of the house.”

“Your sister is Keila?” Bee wondered, brows furrowed as she tried to connect the dots through the alcohol.

“No,” he said, smiling. “My sister is Bonnie. She’s dating Keila’s best friend.”

Bee let out a long breath. “That, my friend, is hella complicated. But whatever.”

“Who are you here with?”

She hunched a shoulder. “Ben. I did all the lighting for the place he played on weekends.”

Robert paused, surprised by that. “I thought her name… oh. Bianca. I get it. Sorry.”

“No worries, it happens all the time. Weird we’ve never met though.” Somehow that was a question.

“I… I’m not much on music, to be honest. I’ve never been to one of their shows.”

“Aw, you definitely should. They’re very entertaining.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Bonnie keeps trying to drag me to one.”

“Let her,” Bee concurred. “So if not music, what do you do?”

“College at the moment, nothing exciting.”

“College is so exciting. Tell me all about it.”

Robert smiled at her. Strange. “I’m in hospitality. I want to be a chef.”

Bee clapped a hand to her chest. “A man who can cook. I’m swooning.”

“Don’t mock me. I really enjoy making food. It’s art.”

She waved away what was probably a highly offended expression. “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just I don’t know many guys who do…” She cleared her throat, placed her bottle down and lifted her fingers to summon air quotes. “Women’s work.”

He rolled his eyes. “With my sister? I hardly believe in all that chauvinistic caper.”

“Oh and he has a way with words, folks,” Bee giggled.

Rob gave her a playful shove in the shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Really. It’s nice. Ben’s musical friends are all dimwits. I swear listening to them try to construct a coherent sentence is like bashing my skull in with a lead pipe.”

“Seriously?” Rob asked, incredulous. “But Ben is so well-spoken.”

Bee arched a shoulder and huffed. “There’s no accounting for the company he used to keep. I’m honestly glad he met Keila. It’s so good to see him doing well with his music.”

“Was he frustrated before?”

“No idea. Probably. He did most of the work.”

“Not healthy.”

“Nope.”

There was a beat of silence then. They both simply watched the rest of the revellers. For a brief moment, Rob thought he could see Marceline through the throngs. But she’s half his height so he dismissed it as illusion. Or whatever.

Thought to be perfectly truthful, he wasn’t minding Bee’s company.

“So what do you do other than Ben’s lighting?” he wondered, hoping that was a decent enough way to prolong their conversation.

“You know that penny arcade in the mall?”

“Yeah. The one that’s been closed down for the last few years?”

She beamed. “That’s the one. I own it now. I’ve been fixing it up. Gonna be great.”

“Holy… _really_?”

Bee exploded with laughter. “No, I’m joking with you. I work at the electronics store across from it, though. What I wouldn’t _give_ to be able to buy and restore that place. Man…”

“Wow, you… That was really convincing,” Rob exhaled, beaming.

“Aw shucks. One day I might even be able to say it honestly.”

“ _Bubba_!”

He ripped his gaze away from Bee to whirl on whoever had bellowed his name. Typical. Marceline. He should’ve known.

“What?” he sighed.

“Hell, you have such good _manners_ , Cakeman,” she huffed around a grin.

“Please don’t call me that,” he ground out. “What’s up?”

Marceline nodded over her shoulder and he followed with his eyes. Bonnie was saying something to some of her friends. “We’re going.”

“You’re not staying until midnight?” he wanted clarified.

“Nah. Bonnie has to work in the morning.”

“But the _countdown_ ,” Bee lamented.

“Ugh, you sound like Laura. I can kiss her at home. No big deal.”

Then Bonnie bounced into their conversation, one arm winding into Marceline’s automatically. He tried not to let it make him feel weird. Why would it make him feel weird? That’s absurd.

“Bye, Rob,” she said, delighted.

“Bye, Bonnie. Get home safe.”

Marceline rolled her eyes at him (they’d had the conversation a few times before). But before she could make a bad joke, Bonnie was hauling her towards the door. No doubt in an attempt to maintain some semblance of peace between them.

“Are they always like that?” Bee asked softly.

“Pretty much. Marceline’s a Grinch and Bonnie is the opposite.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

“I guess that depends on your definition of heaven,” he grumbled.

Bee lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t like your sister’s taste in girls?”

“Oh no, it’s not that… just…” He sighed. “I guess I worry.”

She bumped his shoulder. “That’s what brothers do. I don’t think you have to, but go ahead anyway. I’m sure Marceline will get a kick out of proving you wrong.”

“You know what?” he drawled. “You’re right. She’ll get some form of sick satisfaction from it. Damn her.”

When about two minutes later some drunken idiots started the countdown to midnight, Rob thought that maybe his sister could’ve waited around just a little longer. That idea flashed away when he groaned, leaning back into the wall.

“Not keen on it?” Bee asked.

“I should’ve bailed hours ago.”

She bobbed her head absently, eyes on the clock. Amazingly, Bee seemed completely unfazed by the chanting. She looked back at him at around ‘six’ though and he had to look away. He hated the way he could feel his face flushing.

Bee kept staring at him as the numbers got lower and when they finally screamed ‘one’ into the dark; she reached over and grabbed his shirtfront. Pulling him down – too surprised to do anything about it – she kissed him. This was not how he’d expected his evening to go.

Not that he had any reason to complain.

Instead, as she let him go and he swallowed down the uncertainty rising in his throat, he asked, “Um… why?”

She made a face. “Why not? How about, we got get something to eat?”

“It’s midnight,” he blurted. Well he didn’t have anything else to say.

Bee just smiled at him. “So it is. Pancakes at midnight. Sounds like an excellent way to usher in the New Year.” And then she was backpedalling. It left him with two choices: go with her, or walk home alone. 

With only a moment of hesitation, he stepped after her. Her smiled ratcheted up at least five thousand notches and when he reached her, her arm slipped through his.

“Maybe sometime you can even cook for me,” she muttered as they headed down the sidewalk.

“Like a date?”

“Yeah. Sounds nice.”

Didn’t it ever.

Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.


End file.
